


Contact.

by marble_moth_alex



Series: Analysis and Instrospection. [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aversion To Physical Contact, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Child Abuse, Introspection, Intrusive Thoughts, Original work - Freeform, POV First Person, Panic Attacks, Panic response, Paranoia, Trauma, Violent Intrusive Thoughts, childhood trauma (implied), no beta we die like men, referenced abuser, self-deprecating thoughts, trauma response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28893681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marble_moth_alex/pseuds/marble_moth_alex
Summary: A statement on physical contact.This work deals with slightly heavier themes, and is, unfortunately, inspired from real life.
Series: Analysis and Instrospection. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118798





	Contact.

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me after I came home from a very uncomfortable shopping trip with my parents.

I don’t really like physical contact, unless I initiate it. Feels a bit hypocritical, I know that much. But it’s much better than unintentional contact. I don’t like being touched all the time, but on some occasions, I like it. On those rare occasions, you can’t get me off of you, I cling like my life depends on it. On those occasions, people hate me for accepting contact.

Or, maybe, the issue is not with me, but with the person touching me. I never liked it when ~~my dad~~ he touched me, not even accidentally. I don’t like it when he looks at me, either. I can’t be alone in the same room as him without feeling a pang of discomfort. It gets unbearable when he’s behind me, where I can’t see him. I can only  _ feel _ him behind me, and in that moment I panic. And it keeps getting worse and worse the closer he is behind me.

It makes my brain  _ scream  _ at me to  _ run away run run run runrunrun _ **_runrunrun run away from him _ ** but I never do. I just grit my teeth and try to ignore my brain yelling at me  _ he’s going to hurt you he’ll hurt you run he’ll hurt you and you can’t see it coming  _ **_get away get away get away get away_ ** .

I don’t like it when people walk behind me, slightly too close. Or just too close in general. Makes me want to run, to scream, to kick and shove and  _ bite and scratch and  _ **_rip and tear_ ** at the person who invaded my space. 

People always ask me why I have these moments of pure hatred for physical contact, and I never know what to answer. Do I tell them it’s a trauma response? Or do I just  _ lie _ in their faces and say it’s a personal preference.  **I lie. Always.** **_Liar liar liar liar liarliarliarLIAR._ **

It’s a never ending cycle. Well, technically, it ends when I die, but until then it feels never ending. 


End file.
